


Lunch

by lyricalsoul



Series: Mycroft's In Love [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Office Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:33:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalsoul/pseuds/lyricalsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gregory owes Mycroft one for drinking the smoothie from our previous tale. Mycroft collects over lunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunch

**Author's Note:**

> Another bit in the Mycroft's in Love saga. Part Seven, not Eight as AO3 insists. (silly edit button) but it doesn't matter.  
> You don't have to read the others, but why not?

At exactly twelve forty-three, I look up as Mycroft enters his office. He closes the door firmly, and snicks the lock. His jaw is set in a way that I hate, and his eyes are hard and cold.

“Rough day already?” I ask from the sofa.

“Gregory, I’m glad you’re here. And prompt.” He removes his jacket, loosens his tie a bit, and leans against the door. He looks at me, eyes no longer cold and hard, but predatory. Interesting. “I seem to have developed an appetite.”

“Well, have at it, then.” I gesture at the meal laid out on the low table. “Your usual, or so I’m told.”

“Mmm…” He pushes away from the door, lays his jacket neatly across his chair, and comes to sit beside me on the sofa. “Looks delicious.”

“You haven’t looked at the table yet.”

“Chicken, rice, vegetables,” he says, still looking at me. “You’re much more interesting than that.”

“The chicken is steamed, so I hope so.”

“Trust me,” he whispers, his lips inches from mine. “Much more interesting.” He maneuvers us so that he’s lying on the sofa, and I’m braced on my arms above him. How he did it so effortlessly, I’ll never know. But I like it. “Though you’re wearing too many clothes…”

“Not really.” I lean back a bit so he can see. “Thought I’d save time, since we’re working against the clock.”

His eyes widen as he takes in my Macintosh, and y-fronts. Not my usual underwear, but Mycroft said he’d like to see me in a pair, so here I am. “Perfect.” He unties the belt holding the coat closed, and pushes the ends aside. His hands rub my chest, then up to push the coat off my shoulders. “Beautiful.”

“Talk about too many clothes. You’re wearing full armour today.” I shrug out of the confines of the coat and toss it aside. The feel of the expensive fabric of his waistcoat is exquisite against the heat of my body. “On second thought, just leave everything on. Feels good.”

“You’ll muss me. I have a meeting right after lunch.”

“Um… the German delegates, right?” I set my lips on the slight cleft in his chin, and tease it with my tongue, careful not to mark him. “It will take forever to get you out of all your clothes, and forever and a day to get you back in them. You’re a smart man… figure something out.”

“Mmm…” He runs his hands down my back, cups my arse, and moves to my thighs. “Strong and firm. Lovely. We’ll work it out as we go, hm?”

“Your wish is my command.”

“As per our bargain, no more talking for the next twenty-three minutes.”

I smile, and nod.

“Perfect.” He moves to a half-sitting position, his upper back against the arm of the sofa. I scoot forward with him, kneeling between his legs. “What would you prefer, Gregory? To bring me to completion with your mouth, your hand, or your body?” His eyes roam over me, looking every bit as lascivious as he sounds. “I think your body, yes? I do so enjoy frottage…  But then, I would have your smell all over me, and I would be useless in my meeting.”

I groan, and move to fit flush against him. Well, as much as I can with his well-cut trousers in the way. Still, I press forward, letting him feel how hard I am, how much I want him.

He breathes out slowly. “Exquisite, but no…can’t have that. So, perhaps your hand…? I love your hands. Rough, soft, sure…you know just how to touch me…”

I move my hand to his belt, and drag it open, sliding my palm into the band of his pants, lightly scratching at the hair there.

His hips move upward, but then he grabs my wrist as I move my hand lower. “Tempting, but you might not catch all that I…offer, and I’d hate to have to explain to the German delegates that I managed to spill my…lunch in my lap. Could cause an incident.” He presses a thumb against my lips. “Your mouth, though... Very tempting. Soft lips, strong jaw, and your tongue… sonnets could be written about how you use it… mmm…”

His thumb slips inside my mouth, the pad scraping across my tongue. I close my lips around the tormenting digit and suck gently, taking it deep, then pushing it back, twirling my tongue around his thumb with abandon.

“Mmm…” He pulls his thumb away, and rubs it across my lips. “Mouth it is.” His hands rub through my hair, down my back, and around to my shoulders, where his gives a gentle nudge. “If you would be so kind…”

I move down, dragging my hands across his chest, down to his waist.

“Opening only, since we are pressed for time. And it would be terribly inconvenient if you…spilled.”

I smile, taking his meaning. I undo his flies and ease his cock through the opening. I sigh at the feel of his warm, hard cock in my hand. Long, thick, pale, and hard as stone, just begging to be licked and sucked until I-

“You can do that later.” His hips move upward impatiently. “We haven’t all day, Gregory. Focus.”

I blush at being so easily read, and return to the task at hand. I rub his cock against my cheek, under my chin, then move up a bit so I can give a little friction from my chest hair.

He tangles a hand in my hair. “Too much,” he pants. “My meeting is in twenty-three minutes.”

I move back down, and take the tip of his cock in my mouth, sucking gently, then moving off, and teasing him with a breath of air, then back to sucking the tip.

“More,” he demands, thrusting his hips up hard.

I pull back and give him a sharp look.

He stills, and looks down. “Apologies.”

With a smile, I take him in again, this time the whole banana, so deep that my nose is buried in the expensive fabric at his waist. I hold him there at the back of my throat for as long as I can, then pull back to catch a breath.

He groans and brings his highly-polished-shoe clad left foot to rest near my head, and it heats me up even more. A thrill runs through me as his foot taps my shoulder, and I lap at the length of his cock, following each lick with a caress of my hand.

“Please.”

I look up at him. His eyes are tightly closed, and his jaw is clenched. Loving it, then.

I swallow him again, bobbing back and forth for a full minute before I touch his hip, giving him leave to do what he wants.

He puts a hand on my head and thrusts his hips upward, gently at first, then faster, harder as the need overtakes him. He pulls my head forward, and I brace a hand on his waist to steady myself for the rough ride.

“So good,” he whispers, moving impossibly faster.

I hum, and tighten my lips to grip him harder, and wish he was naked to I could move lower and lick all of him.

“Gregory…” His voice is pitched lower, rougher, and he shoves his whole lower body into my face, digging the heel of his shoe into my back.

Won’t be long now. I pull back a bit, and unfurl my teeth from behind the cover of my lips. I let him feel a gentle scrape of my teeth at the base of his cock, then open my mouth slightly, and add a few rough laps of my tongue.

“Ah.” His back arches, and he comes hard, right down my throat.

I relax, and swallow every drop he gives.

He stills for a minute, then hisses as I swallow a bit too hard.

“Sorry,” I whisper, and pull away as gently as I can. I rest my head on his stomach for a second, then ease back to sit up. “Okay?” I look down at him.

“Um…” His arm is thrown across his eyes. “A minute, please.”

“Yeah.” I sneak in one last lick of his cock, then get up, ignoring the steel pole of my own hard on. My rucksack is on the side of the sofa, so I grab it, pull my clothes out, and put them back on. Not an easy task, but I manage to zip my trousers without maiming myself. I could use some ice, and a drink of something strong. And a quick hand job wouldn’t hurt, but a deal is a deal.

“Had I known that an orgasm would provide such clarity of mind, I would have indulged more often.” He sounds amused, and utterly relaxed.

“Good for me that you didn’t. I like that this is all new to you.” I hold out a hand.

He takes my hand, and hauls himself to a sitting position. “That was delicious, Gregory. And just perfect.” He tucks his cock back in his pants and fastens his trousers. “Do I look like I’ve been ravished in my office?”

“Yeah.” I pull a comb from my pocket, and offer it. “Fix your hair. And a little room spray wouldn’t hurt.”

“Mmm…” He takes the comb, and runs it through his hair. And damn if it isn’t perfectly combed without him looking. “Better?”

“Much. Meeting in ten minutes. I’d better go. Eat your chicken.”

“I’m quite content, thank you.” He gets up, and pulls me into a hug. “God, Gregory… I cannot thank you enough.” He rubs a thumb along my jaw, down my throat to the opening of my shirt. “You’re going to bruise where my shoe heel hit you. I do apologise.”

“Well worth every bruise and scratch.” I give a quick kiss, and pull away. “You can make it up to me later.”

“The effect you have on me is quite unnerving,” he says. “I like it.”

“Hedonism. That’s what they call it.” I kiss him, and brush my hands across his waistcoat. “I wish I could use the next ten minutes getting you out of this. Christ, you’re sexy.”

He takes my wrists, and holds them down at my sides. “It would not be prudent to keep touching me, Gregory. Bruno will mistake my arousal as a sign that I am finally giving in to his advances, and make a move.”

“What? Bruno? A move…?”

“Calm down. It is a small thing, and most certainly nothing to worry about. Go back to work. I believe the culprit in your current case is the uncle, though I cannot say for sure without a glance at the casework.”

“Stop that. Bad enough I have Sherlock in my cases…”

He ducks his head. “I was bored.”

“Of course.” I laugh at familiar Holmesian song. “I’m off then.”

“Thank you again for having lunch with me, Gregory.”

“My pleasure.”

Mycroft smiles. “Definitely mine as well.”

 


End file.
